Show Me

Jesus, why is Jane Doe in my life?
She doesn’t listen.
She isn’t human.
She doesn’t care.
She isn’t my kind of person.

*silence with a slice of sighs*

Is she a soul My Father created?
Is she someone I died to save?
Is she made in Abba’s image?
Does she have worth simply because she is?
Isn’t that more than enough?

*silence with a side of remorseful sorrow and silent resignation*

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